


Three Hours

by muzivitch



Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-23
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:25:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p> Stage #2 from <a href="http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/"><b>stagesoflove</b></a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Three Hours

**Author's Note:**

>  Stage #2 from [](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile)[**stagesoflove**](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/)

_**[Fic] Three Hours | Watchmen, VeidtOwl. G.**_  
Title: Three Hours  
Author: [](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/profile)[ **muzivitch**](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/)  
Series: Watchmen  
Pairing: Nite Owl II/Ozymandias  
Rating: G  
Length: 536 words  
Note: Stage #2 from [](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile)[**stagesoflove**](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/)

The dark-haired one - Dan, Shelley thought as she smoothed back her blond hair and checked her lipstick in the pie case - he was a regular, and he was a _cutie_. The blond didn't come in as often, only once a month or so, on the same day, and he was more handsome than Dan was. Movie star gorgeous, really, with gleaming blond hair and glittering green eyes, slim and dressed in clothes that even Shelley could tell were probably handmade and tailored to him.

But Dan, she thought as she strode across the diner, her heels clicking against the linoleum and her scarlet painted nails tapping against her thigh. He was adorable, and _accessible_ , and had the prettiest blue eyes behind his thick glasses. And he tipped well, Shelley thought, grinning as she pulled out her order pad. "Hi, Dan," she said. "I know you'll be waiting for your friend today, but want to go ahead and order?"

Dan smiled back - a soft, shy smile, Shelley thought, that almost made her blush - and inclined his head. "Coffee," he said. "And it's blueberry pie today?"

"Black raspberry," Shelley corrected. "It must be good though, only a few slices left."

"I'll have one, then," Dan said, and hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Two," he said. "He might be late."

Shelley nodded, and a few minutes later she was back with the steaming pot of coffee and two expertly balanced pie plates that she slid gracefully onto the formica table with the ease of long practice. "Anything else?" she asked as she poured dark, strong coffee into a white ceramic mug, and then smiled as Dan shook his head no. She retreated to her stool behind the counter and watched Dan as he waited.

It was a quiet night; they didn't do much evening business, not in this neighborhood, and the evening shifts were usually easy. Just a few customers, and plenty of time to watch the people. Tonight it was practically dead; it was just her, and the cook, and Dan, and she rested her chin on her manicured hand, her fawn-brown eyes intent on him as he sipped coffee - five cups, she knew that because she'd refilled it each time - and watched the shift of expressions on his face. Calm expectation at first, she mused, for that first hour, and then deepening concern as it bled into the second, and finally anger and disappointment. Mostly disappointment, she noted as she stood up again and strode to his booth. "Done for the night?" she asked as he dug out his wallet, and he smiled at her again. Dimmer this time, though, Shelley thought.

"Yeah," Dan said quietly, glancing at the clock that read almost midnight.  "It's getting late."

Shelley nodded. "Do you want me to wrap up the pie for you?" she asked as she slipped the bills he handed her into her pocket. "It's still good, and you bought it."

Dan paused, flicked his eyes down at the slice of dark red fruit and pastry that had been sitting in front of him for the past three hours. He shook his head. "No," he said.

"Throw it away."


End file.
